


Hardly Ever What We Dream

by whiteblankpage



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Magic, F/F, F/M, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-07
Updated: 2012-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-13 17:49:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteblankpage/pseuds/whiteblankpage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the death of her husband, King Burt of McKinley, the widowed Queen is finally able to take control of the kingdom from his only son and heir, Kurt. Bewitching his council, terrorizing the people and killing all those who oppose her, it isn't long before Kurt is nothing more than a prisoner in his own home. With the help of the cursed huntsman, he's able to escape the castle and the capital, on the promise of one day returning and take his kingdom back. </p>
<p>It isn't until Kurt has the bad fortune of stealing a very valuable item from a group of traveling Dalton Knights that his path crosses with that of Sebastian, Commander of Prince Blaine's Personal Guard. With Dalton due to resign their peace-treaty with McKinley, Kurt begins building a rebellion powerful enough to have any hope of keeping that promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Hardly Every What We Dream_

  
  


Kurt Hummel, Crown Prince and only heir to the throne of McKinley was about to die.

  
Dave, the royal huntsman- and friend for many years- stood poised, the tip of his hunting knife pointed down, ready to sink hungrily into the vulnerable spot between Kurt’s shoulders.

  
It was unbearably hot in the clearing where they'd come to rest, not a breeze to be found to lift the heavy scent of wildflowers and dirt. With the sun at his back, Kurt could see the shadow of his friend, the outline of the knife ready to strike him dead. 

  
He didn’t turn, didn’t try to run or beg for his life. Dave knew these woods better than most of the forest men who made their living off of the timber they hauled back to town- running would be useless, a pathetic game of cat and mouse. 

Instead he kept his gaze across the clearing, and hoped that their friendship- that Dave’s quiet, steady heart- would win out against whatever the Queen had done to him.

  
As the knife came down, Kurt closed his eyes in surrender. Perhaps it had be wrong to hope.

  
The thud of the blade biting into the bark of the fallen tree beside him made Kurt flinch violently. Dave’s hand gripped hard at the hilt, white-knuckled as he fell to his knees at Kurt's back.

  
“You need to  _run_.” 

  
Kurt turned, unable to ignore the crumpled expression on his friend’s face, the way his free hand clutched at the his heart.  
He gripped Dave’s shoulder tightly, frightfully reminded of the way his father had clawed at his own chest before the life left his eyes. 

  
“Kurt, you  _need_ to go,” he said through gritted teeth, hand still on the knife. “She wishes for me to kill you here and bring your heart back to the castle.”

  
Kurt swallowed hard, eying the forest with a new sort of trepidation. “I know. 

  
“I can’t fight it off for much longer,” he confessed, his voice gravel-rough with strain. Kurt’s throat grew tight at the fear in Dave’s eyes. “You must know not everyone has turned against you- those she could not threaten to obey she has bewitched.”

  
“Like you?”

  
Dave closed his eyes, hand coming up off the knife to gently cup Kurt’s cheek. “Like me.”

  
The hand slowly slid down, thumb dragging across Kurt’s lower lip to rest hard against the side of his neck. Kurt’s hand quickly came up to circle Dave’s wrist fearfully, as his fingers dug into the tender skin of his neck. 

  
“Kurt,” he said, a little sad, a little broken, “you have to go.  _Now_.”

  
With one last squeeze, Dave ripped his hand away from him to clutch at the hilt of his knife. His voice was deeper now, sinister and hard. “There’s not much time left.”

  
“I promise,” Kurt swore desperately, scrambling back over the underbrush and to his feet, “I’ll stop her and free you from this.”

  
Dave moaned, deep and malevolent, the sound breaking off into a hungry growl of warning.

  
With nothing more than the pack he’d brought with him, Kurt turned and ran for the cover of the treeline, disappearing from sight. 

  
Dave curled over the fallen log, breath coming in harsh sobs as he pulled the knife from the rotted wood and  _surrendered_.   

* * *


	2. The Knights of Dalton

_Hardly Every What We Dream_

The journey through the dense forests of McKinley's northern borders had never been one for the faint of heart. Between the sparse smattering of dragons that liked to roam the skies above, hunting for wild game and the ogre packs with their deceitful magic and taste for human flesh to the sirens haunting the rivers and lakes that seduced men to their watery deaths and the fairies, who seemed to be offended by the very presence of a mere mortal in  _their_ forest, treacherous was really putting it mildly.

That was exactly how Sebastian Smythe liked his travels.

“This isn’t a quest,” he stated firmly, “I refuse to allow this tragic waste of my time and skill to be in the same category as the word.”

“Prince Blaine specifically called it a ‘Great and Noble Quest’,” Thad reminded him with the air of someone who had been through this conversation a dozen times too many.

Considering they were on the return leg of their journey from the docking port to the Eastern Islands, it wasn’t all that unbelievable.

“Was there a dragon involved?”

“There are no free dragons in Dalton,” Wes said promptly. “The climate is too cold.”

Sebastian ignored him. “Were there magical creatures of any sort? Ogres, giants, wyvern? A ridiculously large hound even?”

“There was that squirrel that snuck into David’s tent,” Jeff said, smirking. “The one he threatened with his broadsword.”

David turned to glare at him darkly. “It won’t be the only animal I threaten with my sword on this quest if someone doesn’t learn to keep their mouth closed.”

“Were there any murderous axe-wielding men or thieving bandits to battle? Any sort of heroic deeds to be had?”

“We did save that old woman’s children from her burning house,” Nick pointed out proudly. “All sixteen of them.”

“Her house was shaped like a woman’s riding  _boot_ , it doesn’t count,” Sebastian said dismissively. “Face it, gentlemen, this isn’t a quest- it’s an errand. Blaine sent us on a damn  _errand_.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t use the Prince’s name so casually,” Wes frowned. “He deserves our utmost respect.”

Sebastian’s gaze flicked his way. “I don’t have to show my respect to him, we have a close, personal history.”

“Yeah,” Jeff said, chuckling, “if you call getting drunk that one mid-winter festival and propositioning the crown prince _respectful_.”

“Oh,” Nick’s face light up with understanding, “maybe that’s Sebastian’s problem. He hasn’t had the chance to lay with anyone in over a fortnight.”

“First important lesson, Squire Trent,” Jeff continued, easily picking up his fellow knight’s train of thought, “knights freshly back from a royal quest are  _always_ welcomed back warmly.”

Sebastian scoffed at the slight to his prowess.  “I hardly need  _help_ bedding anyone I choose,  _thank you_. It’s not as if this joke of a quest will be of much aid anyway.”

He adopted a loftier, self-important tone, impersonating one of the older, lesser known knights who frequented the pubs and brothels of Dalton. “Yes, I’ve just returned from fetching his Royal Highness’s fancy locket on a pretty chain. It was sunny the entire journey and once, David even had to fend of an amorous squirrel.”

David galloped ahead of them, straight-backed and muttering curses under his breath.

They were at the part of their journey that brought their route perilously close to the border of McKinley. Wes pulled his battleaxe- fondly christened ’The Gavel’- from his back to rest gingerly on his saddle horn.

Jeff’s hands kept plucking at the arrows in his quiver as he moved in tandem with Nick to bracket Squire Trent. 

Sebastian touched the sword at his hip and without much thought jerked the reigns of his horse hard to the left.

His comrades halted at the fork in the road.

“What are you doing?” Wes hissed at him, his temper finally ruffled. “In case you’ve forgotten, Dalton is this way.”

Sebastian continued down the path, unconcerned. “Yes, but I am going  _this_ way.”

“We’re not permitted to cross borders without royal consent,” Thad said, frowning, “The Queen could very well see it as an act of war.”

Fed up, Sebastian turned on his steed to face his knights. “She won’t even know we were here if we remove our cloaks and avoid the villages.”

Squire Trent clutched at his cloak with one hand, aghast. “The Knights of Dalton have worn these colours for  _generations_. We can’t just take them off!”

“Alright, that’s it- cloaks off,” Sebastian said, snapping his fingers. “Let me remind the lot of you, I am in command here. You are my squadron and unless I am grievously straying from the code of honour that Dalton strives for from its knights, you are to obey my command.”

Neither knight looked pleased at the dressing down. The horses shuffled, snorting and flicking their manes impatiently.    

“Cutting across the northern tip of McKinley will not only satisfy my growing need for some sort of excitement, it will cut two days off of our travel,” he said, his voice hard and clipped. Sebastian understood better than most that camaraderie and a somewhat personable demeanor were the staples of a good commander’s relationship to his fellow knights.

He also knew that it didn’t matter how much they enjoyed ribbing him or poking fun at his expense; if those under his command didn’t respect his orders or trust his decisions they had no business being together on the battlefield.

One by one each knight unclipped their red cloak, eyes down as Sebastian watched them. Their tunics were dark blue and finely woven but plain enough to pass them off as traveling nobles or even tradesmen.

Sebastian was the last to remove his own Dalton cloak, folding the heavy cloth briskly and stuffing it into his saddlebag. The high sun felt warm on his shoulders as he shifted them beneath the chain mail hidden by his own blue tunic.

The horses clopped easily along the tail as the knights ventured further into McKinley territory. Squire Trent’s normally rosy cheeks were pale with worry as his eyes scanned the treeline in a continuous circle.

Thad’s shoulders were hunched, as if he could feel the target painted along his spine while Wes’s nimble fingers slipped against the blade of his battleaxe, staining it with blood.

His knights were nervous and unfocused, their instincts dulled by the quiet, peaceful life Dalton afforded them. Sebastian shook his head and let their uncomfortable silence linger as he thought.

“You’ll have a fortnight’s rest before I petition Blaine for traveling rights to Thurston. It’s no McKinley but their knights are well-trained and their mountains are infested with wyvern and goblins.”

David groaned. “I hate goblins.”

“Nobody actually  _likes_ goblins, David,” Jeff reminded him glumly.

Squire Trent eyed them warily. “What’s wrong with goblins? McKinley’s got some hobgoblins in the southern mountains.”

“Hobgoblins are mischievous,” Thad explained, “more likely to turn your washing pink than anything else if you make them angry.  _Goblins_ tend to find their amusement in a much deadlier type of mischief. They’d boil the water in your belly if you said you wanted tea.”

Squire Trent swayed on his horse, eyes wide. Sebastian shot Thad a stern look.

“Which is why you never agree with anything a goblin offers you. I’ll have Wes make sure you’re up to date on all the lore you’ll need to know by the time we leave for Thurston,” he said, evenly. “Thad will get the chance to refresh his memory and curb his imagination by helping you research.”

Squire Trent seemed wholly unappeased.

“There aren’t any goblin in McKinely of course,” he babbled, obviously looking for reassurance. “Surely you wouldn’t take the chance of running into one with the Prince’s gift to protect.”

Nick gave his shoulder a comforting pat. “Don’t worry, I’m sure this little detour will be nothing if not uneventful.”

A sudden swooping feeling in the pit of Sebastian’s belly made him question Nick’s gall at challenging the hands of fate with his thoughtless words as a glint of something opaque and shiny in the sky caught his eye.

A small sphere landed with a smash against the earth before them and with a flash of lightning quickly engulfed the pathway.     

As Sebastian pulled his sword from its sheath, the air was filled with a shrill, piercing scream.  
  
~


	3. Little Red Robin Hood

Hardly Ever What We Dream

 

 

In the blink of an eye the once bright clearing was smothered in a thick, gray smoke.

The horses whined but held their ground as the shrieks and screams of the broken-hearted and the tortured echoed around them.

David shouted, the shadow of his broad sword coming down through the nightmare fog seamlessly. A sinister laugh echoed around them, breaking off into a long, anguished scream.

“Steady,” Sebastian roared over the wails, one hand pulling his sword from its sheath. “Knights, gather close. Whatever you see in the smoke, know that it isn’t real.”

Squire Trent’s stallion appeared through the screaming fog, its flank bumping Sebastian’s own steed’s. He reached out and gripped the young man’s reins, dragging him close.

“Keep beside me and ready your weapon. Do not swing until I give the command- you’ll behead one of your comrades if you do.”

Squire Trent raised his sword in a double-handed grip. “What is this witchcraft?”

Sebastian squinted into the unrelenting smoke. “Illusions, broken hopes and dreams, the very origins of our nightmares. Djinn-magic. Just remember that nothing you see here exists, despite what your mind may tell you. It can’t touch you.”

With all the ill-placed timing of a cautionary tale, Sebastian let out a pained yelp as a cloaked figure slammed into his side and pulled him from his horse.

The air punched from Sebastian’s lungs under the hard, unyielding ground and the weight of his attacker, His ribs and belly ached as they rolled away from the prancing hooves of the frightened horses.

The violet-red cloak of his foe slipped down to cover Sebastian’s eyes as he struggled to draw in a breath. His legs felt heavy and pinned down by the weight of the person on his thighs and what absurdly felt like  _petticoats_. 

The hard clap of a hand against the rear of a horse and Squire Trent’s startled yelp. His mount took off into the thick nightmare fog left him alone with who Sebastian was beginning to suspect was a woman.

His observations halted at the smallest prick of a knife point at his throat.

“Carrying anything interesting today?” A high, clear voice asked. “Speak up now, something shiny enough just might save your life.”

“I have nothing you should concern yourself with,” Sebastian replied, edging his left hand along the ground in search of a weapon. It was frustratingly smooth from the hooves, wheels and boots of travelers.

Almost immediately one of the bandit’s knees came down on his wander hand, trapping it. The point of the knife nicked the underside of his jaw in retaliation. “None of that now. I’d so hate to get any blood on my fine clothing.”

Sebastian snarled as he felt the warm trail of blood slip down over his neck. He’d never been one to lie pretty and let someone else tell him what to do. It wasn’t the type of advice he was about to start following now.

Mindful of the damn  _knife_  at his throat, Sebastian quickly rolled them, dumping the bandit onto the hard earth and barely getting a glimpse of surprised blue eyes.

The familiar clatter of arrows in a quiver let him know that his assailant held some skill in archery-as well as the irritating ability to maneuver with what looked like a heavy gown on.

The knife glinted in the swirling fog as the lady took a swipe at Sebastian’s arm. A quick side-step saved him from an unfortunately nasty belly wound but left him open for a second attack.

Immediately a booted foot came up to catch him in the chest and knock the air from his lungs a second time.

Nimble hands felt along his waist and neck as Sebastian threw a weak, poorly aimed punch to the bandit’s ribs. She stumbled away cursing.

“What kind of court publicans are you? Where are the taxes?”

Sebastian pulled himself to his feet as his horse trotted back into view through the slowly fading fog. The outlines of trees and his own knights were just visible in the smoky air. “We’re not tax collectors.”

“Everyone sound off!” Wes called, hefting his large battleaxe and casting a large shadow in the fog.

 The lady bandit whipped her bow from her shoulder and took aim at the silhouette of Sebastian’s friend as one by one the knights called out their name and fiefdom. Almost immediately she pointed the arrow his way, alarmed.

“You’re knights from Dalton,” she said, her voice surprisingly  _low_  with shock. “Damn it.”

Before Sebastian could do more than shout, she let lose the arrow, pinning his tunic to the large fur tree behind him. Her violet-red cloak billowed in the breeze that was beginning to air out the clearing as she pulled herself into the saddle and yanked on the reins of Sebastian’s spooked horse.

The horse with their precious cargo on it.

“Wes, to the left- she’s got my horse!”

The battleaxe missed its mark by nothing more than a foot as the thief urged the stallion on through the fading screams of the nightmare fog and out of sight.

 

* * *

 

 

They ride hard for the rest of the day, pushing the horses to the brink of exhaustion but the bandit and Sebastian’s stallion stay stubbornly out of sight.

The sun was low in the sky, heavy and red as it touched the pointed tips of the forest’s treetops when Thad pulled his horse to a stop.

“We’re near the town of Bean, Sebastian,” he said, shoulders sagging with exhaustion. “With night almost upon us, we’re going to have to start setting up camp.”

Sebastian shook his head, stubborn to a fault. “We can’t stop now. She’ll get away.”

“We can’t track  _anyone_  in the McKinley forests, especially come nightfall.”

Jeff peered over Nick’s shoulder from where he was precariously perched after giving up his own steed for Sebastian to ride on. “There was a decently hidden clearing a few yards back. Perfect place for camp.”

Sebastian pulled the horse to a stop, mind racing as they hovered uncertainly on the trail. He’d never meant for the quest to go so wrong so swiftly, and now they were facing their first night in the forests of McKinley, nothing more than young, untested knights.

“Wes, Thad- go into town. I’ll need a mount and the pair of you will need to gather whatever supplies you can,” he nodded at Squire Trent and David. “I’ll have you two ride hard to Dalton come morning, to inform Blaine of our intent to retrieve his mother’s necklace from the thief.”

The knights nodded, Wes thumping his saddle horn in favour.

“Let’s make camp.”

Night seemed to fall faster as Thad and Wes headed off for town and the rest of them quickly set up to settle down for the night. Sebastian was struggling with nailing the barrier spikes- magicked to toll like a warning bell if crossed during the night- when Nick approached him slowly.

“That was some impressive fighting today, Commander.”

Sebastian had always appreciated Nick’s casual way of pointing out just how much of an idiot you were- it was a refreshing turn from the polite, overly accommodating behaviour of most of Dalton’s court.

He’d never realized how annoying it was to be on the wrong side of that frank, impertinent mouth.

“Don’t start.”

“Letting her get away with your horse- was that part of the plan as well?” Nick’s smirk dropped as Sebastian slammed the sledgehammer down on the damnably hard ground beside his booted foot.

“Perhaps you’d like to recount your actions during the attack, besides cowering in the fog?”

Nick nudged the hammer with the toe of his boot. “I’ve never seen a weapon like that before in my life- you’ve been to the Western Isles.”

“Inexperience is not an excuse for cowardice,” Sebastian replied, half-heartedly. “Despite my time in the Isles, I’ve only seen the Nightmare Fog from afar.”

Nick’s eyebrows rose. “Nightmare Fog? Those were  _nightmares_?”

Sebastian stood, brushing off his knees as he spoke. “It’s Djinn Magic- dream magic. They force our worst nightmares, the dreams we’ve been forced to abandon, into glass spheres, breakable and easily thrown.”

“They covered the entire road,” Nick said, impressed. “It was all an illusion.”

“I’ve seen them cover  _battlefields_ , seen the destruction a panicked army can cause to itself on them,” Sebastian sighed. “I bet you anything they’re Ogre-made.”

Nick pulled a face. Ogres were the bane of every kingdom’s existence- tricky and honey-tongued, they possessed magic that could steal your very soul if you were foolish enough to make a deal with them. Dalton had outlawed the act of making a deal but even the King had little power against the ogre hordes themselves.

Jeff’s alarmed shout as he tried to set a large pot of water over the campfire drew them from their conversation. They watched their fellow knight wind mill his arms dramatically before landing firming on his backside, away from the flames.

Sebastian sighed heavily. “Please go assist Jeff before dinner is inedible again.”

Nick clapped him firmly on the shoulder. “We’ll get the Prince’s necklace back. I’m sure of it.”

Night fell hard in McKinley, even with the light of the campfire and the silvery glow of the full moon in the sky. The horses grazed close to camp, wary of the dark press of the forest around them.

“We’ll all take watch,” Sebastian said as they waited eagerly for the stew to finish cooling. “Two candle marks each.”

Jeff groaned irritably. “Watch is so boring- it’s like waiting for this pot to cool. Time slows down, I swear it.”

Squire Trent looked ill at the prospect.

“Then you’ll be getting first watch,” Sebastian replied, baring his teeth in a too big smile. There was nothing worst than watching your companions bunk down for the night, knowing you wouldn’t be able to rest your head until your watch was complete.

Jeff’s shoulder hunched and his stomach rumbled, setting off a series of similar complaints from the other knights. Sebastian scoffed. They were entirely too pampered for this life- he hoped to change that soon.

Before long Squire Trent set his bowl aside, flushing as he remembered his duties. He hesitated at the barrier, toeing shyly at a spike in the ground. “Would you like me to find a stream for them, my lord? They grazed before sunset but-“

David shook his head quickly, cutting him off. “Just a basic clean down for the night.” He picked up the sheathed dagger Trent had left by his bowl. “Remember to always take your weapon.”

Squire Trent stepped back towards the campfire, fumbling to catch the dagger tossed his way just as a large wolf burst through the shadowed forest and pounced on his mount.

The knights stumbled back from the beast even in the safety of the magical spiked ring. The horse screeched high and panicked, its hooves beating hard at the air as the enormous wolf’s fang-lined muzzle latched onto its neck and tore apart its throat with a sickening crunch.

The other horses had scattered away from the creature, eyes wide and white and rolling as they fled. The heavy scent of iron- of spilt blood- permeated the air as the wolf hooked its claws into the soft under belly of the horse and began dragging the dead body back into the darkness.

Sebastian yanked his sword from his hip sheath, as his gaze met the amber eyes of the wolf, its front dripping with blood and gore. “Protect the other horses- David, Nick. Spread out and corner it- wolves rarely hunt alone and we can’t stand to lose another mount.”

Nick nodded, his own sword out and ready as he popped the nearest spike from the earth and took off into the forest, headed west. David followed him, broadsword gleaming in the firelight.

Sebastian yanked on the reigns of one of the returning horses, pulling it into the protective circle with a grunt. “Round them up, boys. We’ll return shortly.”

Without waiting for a nod, he took off into the woods, mindful of the trail of blood in the mud.

Immediately the darkness pressed into him, deafening and heavy. The world took on a sinister look; gnarled branches became claws, floating fireflies became hungry wolf eyes.

A low growl rumbled from the dense forest before him, hard and warning.

Sebastian flexed the fingers on his sword hilt and tried not to pant into the still, dark night. His heart beat too-quick in his chest, balanced on that heady line between panic and excitement.

Every breeze, every sway of the trees was a ferocious beast on the prowl, every snap of dead underbrush the trap of drooling, hungry jaws. Sebastian took one last, deep breath and gently moved to push away the hanging leafy branch before him.

A flash of red and white blurred at the edge of the road before a loud scream halted the thrust of Sebastian’s sword.

A young woman, wide-eyed and startled, dressed in a flowing red cloak staggered hastily away from him. The basket on her arm slipped to the ground, spilling baked goods, ripe cheeses and dried meat into the dirt.

Sebastian’s gaze quickly scanned the long, shadowed road, taking in the tree line behind the young woman before he relaxed enough to turn his ire on her. “What in the world are you doing out here? Are you out of your mind?”

“Excuse me?” She said, yanking the ruby-red hood back to reveal shiny, black hair. “What in the heavens are you doing, swinging that sword around in the woods like it’s a damn windmill? Someone’s gonna get their head chopped off because of your foolishness.”

Sebastian sheathed his sword forcefully. “There’s a wolf out here on the hunt, big enough to take down one of our war horses.”

The lady in the red hood snorted, eying him with ill-concealed skepticism. A hand on her hip opened her cloak to reveal the simple yet clean dress of a young village woman.

“Of course there was a wolf, you’re squatting in the  _forest_ where they  _live_.” 

“Sebastian!” Jeff’s voice echoed in the night time, before his bright blond hair could be seen crashed through the trees. He stopped at the side of the trail, one hand pressed against his chest as he panted. “There’s been no sign- oh. My lady.”

Sebastian watched as Jeff bowed down, hand sweeping out in a grand gesture. The young woman curtseyed in response, a wide, genuine smile spread across her lips.

“I am Sir Jeff,” he said, stepping forward to press his lips against the offered hand. “Will you do the favour of telling me your name?”

“It’s nice to see that some men still know how to treat a lady well,” she said, giving Sebastian a sharp look. “You may call me Mercedes.”

“A beautiful name for a beautiful wom-” Jeff started before he was bodily dragged away from Mercedes and her enchanting smile by Sebastian‘s impatient hand.

“What of the wolf? Are any of the other horses injured?”

Jeff beamed at Mercedes over the commander’s shoulder as he replied, “No. The wolf’s all but vanished and Trent’s crying into his stew back at camp. Don’t know why- he hated that horse. It always threw him during the tourneys.”

“Are the other horses secure?”

“They’re at camp- where are you going?” Jeff called, pushing past Sebastian suddenly. “My lady, I don’t think you should be traveling these woods alone. Especially with a wolf on the prowl.”

Mercedes pulled her hood back up over her hair with a smirk. “You’re sweet but I’m not afraid of any big bad wolf. I’ve been traveling these roads ever since my grandmother fell ill. I’m not about to stop now.”

Jeff sent Sebastian a long, beseeching look, as if he could some how change the mind of one obviously mad woman. He shrugged uncaringly back at his rattled knight.

“At least stop and spend a while at our camp, until the danger has passed,” Jeff said, stepping forward to gather up the wrapped cheeses and brush the gravel from the crusty loaves of bread at Mercedes’ feet. “David- one of our companions- said that once the moon has passed the highest point in the sky, we should be safe. He believes the wolf to be magical.”

“What kind of lady would I be if I followed you back to your camp?” Mercedes said with a quirked eyebrow. “I don’t fall for the kinds of tricks wild, forest men play twice, you know. I’ve learned a lot from these woods.”

“I swear on my shield,” Jeff said, expression solemn. “I’m duty-bound as a knight to uphold a level of respect and honour. All of my companions are.”

Sebastian saw her steely gaze soften under Jeff’s well-meaning, if not completely stealth-like, declaration. Her eyes flickered his way and the twist of her smile turned wry. “Even your fussy, sword-happy friend back there?”

“Sebastian’s always like that,” he said, grinning as Mercedes straightened up from her crouch. “If he’s too mean, we’ll just mutiny and hog-tie him to a horse.”

“I could have you thrown in jail for such talk,” Sebastian muttered, watching the pair link arms and head back into the thick of the forest.

True to his word, Squire Trent’s eyes were red and puffy where he sat beside the dancing fire, his mouth drawn down in a firm pout.

Jeff shoved David and Nick off the cleanest patch of ground, spreading his cloak out with a gallant flick for Mercedes to sit on.

Sebastian rolled his eyes as the other knights fumbled to his feet at the sight of a beautiful woman, their hard-won, practiced coordination abandoning them. He stood, arms folded, against a nearby tree and watched as his knights slowly began to relax again.

David offered her a bowl of warm stew, oddly shy. Mercedes grinned hard at him, her teeth flashing long and sharp in the flickering firelight.

“I’m good. I already ate.”

Sebastian touched the hilt of his sword absently before shaking his head.  It wouldn’t do well for all of them to fall into the trap of false security that came with full bellies and a place to rest.

“Jeff tells me that you boys are knights,” Mercedes said, her smile soft and coy. “You don’t look like you work for the Queen. Don’t act like it either- if I’d had run across one of her men, they would have shackled me. Or buried me in the woods.”

“Surely not,” Jeff said, his mouth agape. “What kind of men does the Queen employ?”

“I’ve heard stories of their unnatural strength,” David said, threading his fingers together over his knees. “There’s been talk of rebellion from some of the border fiefdoms but no news has reached the surrounding countries since the King’s murder and his son’s disappearance.”

“Long live the King,” Mercedes whispered sadly. “That poor boy. No one believes he really killed his own father around these parts but the Queen wants his head and everyone is either too scared to defy her or bewitched.”

A dark look was shared by the knights as they took in the changes McKinley had undergone since King Burt’s murder. Prince Blaine, the heir to the Dalton throne, was to embark on a peace-keeping envoy in the fall; to officially welcome in the Queen’s rule and keep her wrath from their own shared borders.

He’d have to be made aware of just what was in store for him.

“Why would you have been slain for traveling in the forest, Mercedes?” Jeff asked, swiping up of the last of his stew with a crust of bread. The wolf attack had done little to stifle his appetite. “The knight should be  _protecting_  innocent village folk and hunting down the bandits in this godsforsaken forest.”

Sebastian scowled fiercely at the reminder of their lost cargo. The itch to move, to find the woman who’d so boldly attacked their party and take back their treasure made his hands tingle.

The other knights grumbled irritably but Mercedes let out a loud, belly-deep laugh. “Sounds like you boys have a story to tell.”

All eyes turned towards Sebastian, the only person who had actually had any contact with the bandit during the scuffle. He frowned hard at the lot of them.

“We ran into some trouble in the forest earlier today.”

Mercedes crossed her arms, her deep red cloak splitting open at the front to reveal the smooth skin of her forearms. “A man of many words.”

At the crook of her arm, Sebastian’s gaze caught sight of the familiar, silvery pattern of healed skin. A scar, old and smoothed from time sat open and obvious at the curve of her arm.

“It was a lady, according to Sebastian,” Nick said, picking up the thread of the tale. “Knocked him clear off his horse while we were trying not to piss ourselves in the nightmare fog.”

“Nick!” David said sharply. “We do not speak that way in the company of a woman.”

Mercedes waved him off, unconcerned with the less than respectable language of knights at rest. “Nightmare fog? Tell me, this thief of yours carry a bow?”

“Yes,” Sebastian said promptly, straightening up his slouch against the tree. His heart raced at the thought of finally finding a run of good luck on this cursed quest. “She seemed to think we’d have taxes on us.”

“Sounds like you boys ran into Porcelain.”

The name meant nothing to them, even as Mercedes looked gleefully expectant about the theft. Nick shrugged when her smile began to wan.

“You’ve never heard of Porcelain? She’s been striking at the Queen’s reign the only way she can right now- stealing back the taxes,” Mercedes’ smile was wistful as she looked down into the fire. “Just over a year ago, the healer in my hometown couldn’t pay when the publicans came to collect. People’ve been sick, you know? So he’s been healing them for free when they couldn’t afford to pay with coin and letting them keep the village fed.”

Her expression turned dark, bitter. “I guess someone ratted him out because they brought a Titan with then this time, took everything the man owned. Said if he was gonna treat everyone for free, he might as well be giving it  _all_  away. They would have taken his only daughter too, had he not sent her off to live with her grandmother in the next town.”

Jeff’s eyes were wide as he shot Sebastian a long look. Mercedes’ deep, rich voice pulled them back into the story before he could ask. She had them captivated.

“Not three days later, a traveling caravan brought the publican back into town, off his head and babbling about monsters and a pale rider swooping down to take vengeance out on them.” Her lips curved at the edges, a barely there smile. “That night, people started getting packages on their doorsteps. Their taxes, returned in full.”

Jeff’s jaw seemed to be stuck in a permanent state of gapping open as he leaned in close and asked, “Porcelain?”

Mercedes nodded, sitting tall and proud in the firelight. “There was a celebration at the return of the town’s money. People from the surrounding villages even came for a drink or two. The mayor spent the night over-indulging in pretty women and wine, yelling crude remarks at the serving girls and picking fights with the local men.”

“Imagine our surprise when he was found tied to the flag post in the town square, naked as a jaybird come sunrise,” she laughed, sudden and quick and shook her head. “Turned out he’d been the one ratting out the healer and the rest of the kind-hearted townfolk to the Queen for a handsome sum all his own. No one knows how Porcelain knew it was him but by then the damage was done. The mayor fled before dusk.”

Sebastian stalked across the clearing, through the ring of Knights entranced with the tale to stand before Mercedes. The fire was hot at his back, sweat pebbling against his spine.

“Where is she now?”

Mercedes was hardly intimidated by him, if her careless shrug was anything to go by. Sebastian felt foolish suddenly, but held his ground.

“No one knows and anyone who does wouldn’t tell you,” she said promptly and sighed. “I don’t know if it was the wine or something a little more magical but no one even remembers what she looks like besides her pale skin. That’s the on thing that stays the same.”

She set her gaze back on the other knights, eying them all with equal sternness. Unconsciously, they straightened their spines under the scrutiny.   

“I don’t know where you boys are from but things are bad here. With the Queen on the throne and the only true heir missing, we need all the heroes we can get. We need  _hope_. If all it takes to make people stand up and rebel against her rule is for one person to rob a few noblemen blind, you’ll be hard pressed to find anyone in these parts that’ll roll over on her.”

The distant, lone howl of a wolf filled the stunned silence that followed as Mercedes and Sebastian stared each other down. Another howl, closer and somehow more insistent broke the unspoken battle of wills between them as Mercedes blinked and looked out into the forest.

“I have to go,” she said softly, shaking her head. Her fingers restlessly fluttered against the folds of her skirt as Sebastian’s gaze immediately flickered down to catch on that oddly-shaped scar, pale against her dark skin.

In the few precious moments it took him to realize it wasn’t just a scar but an old bite mark, Mercedes flipped her cloak over her arms and rose to her feet.

“It’s been lovely but I really must be going if I’m going to make it to my grandmother’s house before dawn. She’ll worry if I’m late.”

Jeff began to rise to his feet as well, anxious. “But the wolf-“

“Grumpy here can walk me back to the road, I’ll be fine from there,” she said, giving Sebastian an imperious look. “Come.”

Sebastian waited just long enough for her deep, red cloak to disappear into the tree line before he unsheathed his sword and followed. While he wasn’t about to let her walk through the forest alone, Sebastian would not be ordered about by just anyone.

Not even Blaine could tell him what to do and he had Sebastian’s fealty.

The shadows seemed darker somehow, longer while Sebastian pushed leafy branches out of his line of sight and tried to find his wayward traveler.

The moon hung low in the night sky, barely lighting the root-ridden forest floor as he peered through the gloom and hissed, “Mercedes!”

“You really are a stubborn ass,” she said, her voice twisted with amusement. “Put that damn thing away, you know there isn’t anything out here either of us has to fear.”

Sebastian gripped the sword hilt tightly. “I’d rather keep it ready if you don’t mind. You seemed a bit too fond of the fact that we’ve already been robbed once today.”

She huffed a laugh, setting her hands on her hips. “You honestly think I have anything to do with that? Look, you heard the story- are you itching to go after Porcelain because what was stolen is of any value or because your pride was injured?”

“My  _pride_  is hardly that fragile.”

“Really,” she drew out the word, slow and disbelieving, “because by the sounds of things, you and your knights were bested at the hand of a lone rider without bloodshed and a man like you? Quick to draw his sword, quick to spit a scathing remark? You all got one thing in common and it’s the size of your ego.”

“Your precious rebel stole an important family heirloom from the Crown Prince of Dalton,” he snapped, driving the tip of his sword into the ground. He relished the way her eyes widened, flickering over his tunic in sudden understanding. “So yes, I would say it is of some value.”

Silence followed, pressing in on them in the darkness as Mercedes seemed unable to think of a proper response. A vicious jolt of  _pride_  at her speechlessness quickly turned to exhaustion for Sebastian. He pulled his sword wearily from the ground and turned to leave.

“Double back.”

He stopped, not bothering to turn to face her. “What?”

“Double back and take the first path east that you see,” Mercedes repeated, soft and abashed. “Keep steady until you reach the valley but don’t go through it. Find the caves if you want any chance of getting back what Porcelain stole.”

“How do you-“ he muttered, turning sharply only to find the forest black and empty.

Mercedes was gone.

  In the distance, the wolf howled long, low and lonely into the night. Startlingly close, another wolf returned the call.  
  
  



	4. For Love or Money

 

The sun was high over the treetops, birds chirping excitedly across the clearing, when Nick rolled over and blinked up at the bright blue sky.

The position of the sun said mid-morning at the earliest, the chill of the night already stricken from the air. Jeff snorted to his left, startling Nick into action.

“Sebastian!” he roared, uncaring for the peaceful faces of his fellow knights. “You were supposed to wake us at dawn.”

Their commander was suspiciously silent.

“What’s all the yelling about, good _gods_ ,” Wes muttered, rubbing his eyes. “Have you gone mad?”

Nick rolled to his feet, eyes darting around to count the perimeter spikes and confirm his suspicions. “No, I’ve not _gone mad_ \- Sebastian deserted us.”

Squire Trent gasped.

“One of the mounts is missing,” Jeff said, crawling over to search their supplies. “His pack is gone as well.”

“That dastardly brute,” Thad said, shaking his fist at the sky. David sighed loudly at the dramatics and pointed at a piece of parchment pinned to the nearest tree.

“I believe he left us instructions.”

Nick ripped the note savagely from the bark. “Caught wind of the thief headed east, continue onto town as planned. Will meet in three days time.”

Jeff shook his head. “That makes no sense- Bean is east of us. Why not wake someone?”

The knights exchanged heavy looks, shifting uncomfortably as Nick crushed the note in his hand. “He’s trying to throw us off his tail.”

Wes nodded. “Alright then, men. We’ll continue into town as planned, the rest of you? Strike up the search for Commander Smythe.”

With the sun still climbing in the sky, they quickly set to work breaking down camp.

 

* * *

 

Three miles away from the curve of the mountains, Sebastian saw his first sign of travel. 

His horse grazed serenely near the mouth of an almost invisible pathway, the slightest incline in the ground letting Sebastian know he was headed towards the caves.

Mercedes, despite her mischievous smile, hadn’t led him astray. 

His saddle bags were missing, everything stripped from the stallion, including the silk pouch that held the one thing he’d been sent to retrieve.

“Dulac,” Sebastian hissed, whistling as the stallion’s ears flicked in his direction. “Come.”

Dulac chewed noisily, ignoring the command.

With a put upon sigh, Sebastian dropped from the saddle of Nick’s agreeable mare, fingers grabbing a length of rope as he went.

“That was a hand-crafted saddle, gifted to me from my mother,” he muttered, looping the rope into a makeshift harness. “If I can’t find a suitable replacement in town, I’ll make it of her hide.”

Dulac snorted at him, shuffling anxiously at the unfamiliar feel of the rope against his neck. The rope twisted on the ground, nearly taking Sebastian’s feet out from under him when he stepped back.

He paused, foot still in the air, eyes taking in the length of rope curled in his hands and sparking a plan in his mind.

 Glancing at the pathway, Sebastian grinned fiendishly.

 

* * *

 

Kurt put his palms flat on the back of his hips, arching his spine with a groan as he tried to starve off the stiffness easing into his muscles. Dalton Knights were known for their preference for peacefulness, not physical altercations. 

It had been a long time since someone had thrown Kurt on his ass.

The haul he’d found had been worth the embarrassment. Dalton, it seemed, liked to cloth its knights in fine cloth, or perhaps the angry man Kurt had tackled to the ground had a taste for luxurious fabrics.

Even the saddle had been unnecessarily ornate, buttery leather and silver-buckled straps. Three Lords had nearly come to blows over it, neither looking as though they’d ever spent a day outside their carriages and castles to need such a saddle.

Even after his trip to Unique’s dress shop, his coin purse was pleasantly heavy. With gold, among other things.

Without faltering in his stride, Kurt’s fingers plucked the necklace out of his hidden coin purse, admiring the way the green light of the forest made the jeweled locket gleam.

A young Lady hoping to impress the Queen’s Court next year had nearly sold him her entire estate for locket, eyes large and greedy as she’d spied it around his neck. Kurt had kept it tucked away after that, no price large enough to let the trinket part from his fingers.

It was stunningly beautiful in its simplicity, deep sparkling rubies set in a smooth, golden oval. A dragon’s clawed hand kept the heavy locket shut, with no visible way to pry it open.

Kurt rubbed a thumb over the edge of the locket thoughtfully before shaking his head and stuffing it back into his coin purse. It had been a long night and he was ready to settle down for a long, well deserved rest.

Quickening his pace, the ivy-cloaked cave had barely come into view when something snagged around his ankle and with a mighty jerk, pulled Kurt off his feet and up into the air.

Cloak falling heavily to the ground and covering his sight, Kurt yelped, panicked and furious for not keeping alert. The Queen had Titans out with no other mission than to find him, she had _David_ out for him-

Confidant boots came into view as the point of a sword came up to poke against his ribs.

Kurt’s gaze jumped up- or was it down, oh his head was beginning to pound- to see the smirking face of the solider from the day before.

 

* * *

 

Immediately, Sebastian noticed the cloak, that same violet-red colour from the attack on the road. Confidant, he unsheathed his sword and pressed it against the thief’s chest. 

“Porcelain,” he said, unable to keep the smirk off his face. “I believe you took something that doesn’t belong to you. I’d like it back.”

The lack of breasts pressed against his sword point came as a slow realization, as did the confusing sight of pants when the thief from the day before had physically disarmed him in full petticoats.

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”

“What kind of coward are you? Setting a trap and drawing your sword on a defenseless traveler?”

Sebastian’s hand jerked at that same voice, huskier somehow, but still the same. Creeping suspicions in the back of his mind, he tapped the flat of the sword against Porcelain’s chin. “Up.”

Sure enough, there lay proof that Sebastian’s lady-thief was, in fact, a man.

“Where’s my pack?”

Porcelain shrugged, pushing the sword off his chin with the flat of his hand. “Gone, I sold every last thing you owned in town this morning. Thank you for that- I made a pretty penny.”

“And no one questioned the providence of the goods?” Sebastian demanded. “My knights are headed into town as we speak. I doubt the townsfolk would take well to having paid for stolen goods. Especially if I drag the thief back to face the courts- I hear you have a history with thievery.”

Porcelain laughed at him, long and hard. “I’d say I look a far sight different from the wily female bandit the people of McKinley have been gossiping about. If you drag me into town with accusations on your lips, they’ll laugh you and your knights out of the country.” 

"You've been hiding under the guise of being a woman," Sebastian said, the point of his sword dipping slightly. "To what end?"

Porcelain smirked. "Most men would be loathe to admit that they were both seduced and robbed by another man would they not? Great Lords, skilled knights- imagine the talk, imagine the _scandal_."

Even more impressive was the idea that the thief's victims aided his guise by spreading the rumors of a lady bandit in the woods while Porcelain was free to sell his spoils as nothing more than a traveling merchant.

The thief swayed in the air as he tried to reach the loop of rope around his ankle. Sebastian gently smacked his arm with the flat of his sword and frowned.

"Stop that. I'll release you if you swear on the Queen's rule that you'll take me to the supplies you stole from my party," he said, "Prince Blaine may spare you the executioner's block if I vouch for your character before his council."

Porcelain's expression was mutinous at best. "What part of _I sold them_ is hard for you to comprehend? Does your face not only share an uncanny resemblance to that of a rodent but your mind as well?" 

Sebastian flicked his sword irritably at the slight. "It is not hard to see how anyone could mistake you for a woman. Between your constant, shrill discontent and that delicate face you'd hardly need the dress from yesterday."

"You will not shame me for doing what I must to survive," Porcelain said with a tilt of his chin. It was an odd reaction, almost regal in a way that was startlingly familiar to Sebastian. "I certainly have no problem recalling who bested who yesterday, and despite your obscenely tight, _manly_ trousers it was not you."

They seemed to be at an impasse of sorts; Sebastian could not return to his Prince empty-handed while his sharp-tongued thief simply would not relent if only because of some warped sense of personal principles.

That strange sense of honour- the kind that had kept Porcelain from doing more than frightening Squire Trent's horse when the boy was easy-pickings to a skilled archer- inspired Sebastian to appeal to his captive's softer side.

"Among the supplies you stole was a necklace upon which hung a very precious locket," he said, lowering his sword point completely. "It belonged to the late Queen Carlotta and holds inside it something not even the King himself knows of. Something meant only for her son," he arched an eyebrow at the swaying thief. "Can you deny really deny her son his mother's last lingering gift?"

"My heart bleeds," Porcelain replied but his voice was shaky, the tense set of his mouth softer somehow.

Not enough for him to be helpful it seemed.

"It just might once the other knights catch up to us," Sebastian snapped, sheathing his sword. 

It was a lie, of course. Dalton was a pacifist nation whose people and royals had little taste for the senseless bloodshed that came with public executions. Only for the most heinous of crimes were criminals put to death while most of the jailhouses and dungeons were rarely overpopulated, much to Sebastian’s disappointment.

Content subjects made for a boring knighthood.

Sebastian sighed as he crouched down to bargain with Porcelain face to face. “Is there anything that will change your mind? You’ll be dragged back to Dalton is chains if you refuse. I will make sure you wear one of your fancy dresses the entire journey back.”

Porcelain's hands were curled into tight fists as he stared Sebastian down despite his precarious position. His face was pink from the prolonged suspension and quite possibly from his own ire. Sebastian prided himself on being something of a thorn in the side of everyone he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting.

Especially the few acquaintances he'd come to like.

Porcelain had stopped struggling, displeased and resigned to his spot at the end of the rope. His arms fell limply towards the ground, fingers curling slightly against the damp earth as he gazed back at Sebastian and kept his stubborn silence.

His eyes were startlingly blue in colour, fading to a pale summer green as the sunlight flickered through the leafy treetops. Absently, Sebastian thought of the seas he’d seen on his travels, before he’d returned to Dalton to become a knight under Prince Blaine’s command. It wasn’t hard to believe that Porcelain could separate a man from his coin purse with eyes like that. They were, if anything, distracting.

Sebastian was, unfortunately, not immune.

The heavily booted-foot hit the crown of his head with a sharp crack, and nimble, thieving hands plucked the sword at his hip from its sheath.

Stunned from the blow to the head, Sebastian pitched over on his side and in a daze watched as Porcelain, in a show of surprising athletics, curled himself upward to grasp the length of rope around his ankle and cut it cleanly with his newly acquired blade.

Plagued by double-vision and a nasty, throbbing knot on his head, Sebastian pushed himself up onto his knees with a furious growl only to be met by the point of his own sword at his neck.

Porcelain was free and for the second times in as many days, the only one of them armed. His eyes were grey now, steely and unbending as he stared down at Sebastian.

"Perhaps Prince Blaine and his knights would do well to learn that as long as Dalton's truce with the Queen stands, the forests of McKinley will never be safe for them."

“Wait,” Sebastian said, unnerved. The barest twitch of Porcelain’s arm gave away his intentions as the hilt of his own sword smashed against Sebastian’s temple and the world cut out abruptly.

 

* * *

 

Distant shouts were the first thing to register as Sebastian clawed his way out of the thick, lazy world of unconsciousness.

Next was the twin points of throbbing pain on his skull, drumming their insistent displeasure into his brain.

Lastly was the horrifying fact that he couldn’t seem to move properly.

Opening his eyes warily showed that the sun had sank far bellow the treetops, blushing in the evening sky as it neared sunset. The forest was already shadowed in the coming twilight, nocturnal animals scrambling and slinking into the leafy underbrush around him.

“Sebastian!” The familiar voice of a fellow Dalton Knight- Jeff if he was correct- brought him a sense of relief and embarrassment. He was tied to what felt a bit like a very large oak tree. Correction, he’d been knocked out with his own sword by a thief who had stolen his Lord’s most precious possession.

And _then_ tied to an oak tree.

“Here!” Extremely irritated, Sebastian kicked out at the ground and was more than a little surprised to a fluff of pale pink fabric flutter before him.

The same pale pink dress Porcelain had been wearing the day he’d robbed Sebastian’s traveling party. The very dress he’d decided to put Sebastian in before he tied him to a damn tree.

“I’m going to _murder_ him,” he swore viciously to the air as Sirs Jeff, Nick, David and young Squire Trent crashed through the wooded clearing before him.

Sebastian set his jaw angrily as they stopped and stared unmoving at him. Jeff pressed his mouth together in a thin line his gaze darting over to catch Nick’s eye and look away.

Squire Trent coughed awkwardly.

“Not a single word,” Sebastian told them. “Or I will run you through with my sword.”

David seemed to be the only one brave enough to venture near, pulling out his own sword to cut away the rope binding Sebastian’s arms. He peered down at the back of the tree where the knot was and murmured in quiet amusement, “The pink flatters you.”

“And you’ll look quite stunning with my hunting knife in your throat, _get on with it_ ,” he snapped back, his head dropping back to smack against the tree.

The knot there throbbed in vengeful glee.

“You were supposed to find the thief, not pick up a lady-friend,” Nick said with a smirk as Sebastian staggered to his feet. The dress was very obviously too narrow for shoulder width and had ripped in places.

Sebastian indulged himself in ripping the entire thing from his person. His under breeches and thin, cotton undershirt was all Porcelain had left on him. Even his boots were missing.

“I did find him,” he said, balling the garment up. “Not only did he refuse to take me to the locket, he attacked me and left me in the middle of the woods.”

“Tied to a tree in a pretty pink dress,” Jeff added with a too bright smile.

Sebastian grit his teeth and promised himself he’d set the young knight on latrine cleaning duties for the rest of his life.

“You sound impressed,” David pointed out after a moment. His gaze was appraising, contemplative.

“I’ve told you time and time again, that is my angry voice,” Sebastian replied haughtily. “Impressed is something you ingrates have yet to see from me.”

“What are we going to do now?” Nick asked, cutting off Jeff’s next retort. “We can’t go back to Dalton empty-handed. Especially not without that locket.”

“And we won’t return until we have it back,” he promised. “Right now, we’ll bunk down for the night, resume tracking the thief tomorrow. Hopefully we’ll be able to get ahead of him and cut him off at the pass.”

David nodded. “A sound plan….as long as you don’t take off in the middle of the night again.”

They’d turned to head back towards the caves, weapons at the ready and the damn pink dress tucked under Sebastian’s arm when Squire Trent piped up, stunned.

“Wait, _he_? I thought the bandit was a woman!”

 

* * *

 

“I’d guess he’s been hiding in here for a while, off and on,” Nick said, stepping back out of the ivy-covered cave. “There’s some signs of constant use but nothing to say our thief has been living there consistently.”

“If he’s smart, he’ll have a dozen or so of these little hidey-holes scattered throughout the forest,” David added. He’d perched himself on a nearby stump and kept his eyes out on the forest while Jeff and Trent made camp.

Sebastian eyed him in annoyance. David ignored the glare, his expression set and almost serene.

“At least you’ll get your adventure out of this trip by the time we get back to Dalton,” Jeff said into the silence.

Sebastian groaned at the reminder and kicked half-heartedly at a piece of kindling before he dropped down to sit back against a mossy tree.

David barely had time to give a shout as the unmistakable twang of a bow string sent the knights diving for cover.  

Sebastian held his breath as the whistle of the arrow’s shaft cut the air just above his head.

The arrow made a hard thunk against the tree trunk, the feathered end brushing against the tips of his wind-swept hair.

Immediately the knights jumped into action, pulling weapons from sheaths as Nick lead the charge into the woods. Without orders.

Sebastian ducked away from the arrow, despite the impressive shot barely touching the hair on his head, his heart pounding hard in his chest. “Sir Nick, I did not order you to attempt to capture anyone. Return.”

David, Jeff and Nick sent him a shared look that was both sheepish and obstinate. “He nearly took your head off!”

Squire Trent reached up and yanked at the arrow rod. The tip cracked loudly and stayed embedded in the hard wooden trunk. “I don’t think he was…there’s a package, Sir.”

Curious, Sebastian took the tiny pouch that had been attached to the arrow from Trent’s fingers. Inside, a tinier scroll greeted him.

_This necklace obviously has more sentimental value than monetary. It is of no use to me. Return it to your Prince without worry- I expect no payment._

_Your cloak has already been sacrificed to make another dress._

_-P_

Hastily, Sebastian stuffed the scroll into his belt and upended the pouch over his hand.

The necklace, unharmed and whole, glittered up at him in the moonlight.

David smiled, wide and relieved. “He returned the locket. Strange thing for a bandit to do.”

The gold gleamed in the firelight as Sebastian muttered, “Strange indeed.”

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am the slowest writer ever. I'm in a lot of fandoms so my inspiration gets passed around a lot.
> 
> I'm on tumblr as well though; andcanyoukneelbeforetheking.tumblr.com.
> 
> I usually post parts of whatever I'm current writing on there as well. Thanks for anyone who's taken the time to read.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing this off and on for the better part of the last few months, inspired by the few promos I'd seen of 'Once Upon A Time' (I've seen the show by now but my entire story's been planned out for a long time before I saw an actual episode) and a friend of mine absolutely flailing over the show, but the latest prompt for Kurtbastian Week: Day Five: Bedtime Stories has pretty much motivated me to start posting and really fleshing things out. Another part will be up later tonight just as soon as I edit it. Title is from 'The Last Unicorn' by Peter S. Beagle. 
> 
> Also, let me be clear here- the Queen is NOT Carole in this story. While there was a flirtation between Carole and Burt once Kurt was older, once the Queen moved in on Burt that possibility was swiftly squashed. Also, sorry the summary is damn lame, holy crap.


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